Jon Bennett- A Poem

My Pickle Jar

When I was a kid in the shopping mall
behind my parents, and my sister
with braces on her legs and
a voice that carried and rang
I'd shrink into the white walls
embarrassed and teenaged
Now I live in Chinatown with
old ladies who wear
handyman gloves and pick plastic
bottles from the trash with sticks
and steel shutters
are repaired with tin lids
from coffee cans, Yuban and Kirkwood
riveted with thumbtacks.
I go to college but in the quad the kids
turn their backs on me though I see them in class
I'm missing parts: teeth, hair, socks
and drink my coffee
from a pickle jar
like me it's short and squat, won't tip
it's a good little jar
better than me hiding
from my sister who was a lonely kid
and better than the kids at college
but it's OK, I've learned
more than just from school.